Name up in Lights
by Aeronous
Summary: »Based on Broadway Bound« Inuyasha's and Kagome's relationship is put to the test.
1. Lesson 1: Swirling Emotions

**Disclaimer: **Some ideas mentioned in this story belong to the authors of _Broadway Bound_ (story ID: 1973802). Also, my opinions are my own, not a part of the story. Flashbacksbelong to their respective owners.

**Name up in Lights**

**Author's Notes: **This story is based right after the scene that broke out between Inuyasha and Kagome concerning Tiffany in chapter four. It'd be great if you read all of that (including past chapters) before you read this.

**Dedication: **This chapter is for the authors of _Broadway Bound. _You both did such a great job in building so much tension and romance into this sequel, and I thank you two immensely.

**Spoiler Warning **for entire storyYep, a couple of spoilers are wrapped up into this plot, so to those readers who haven't really read _Broadway Baby_ (and I doubt that terribly) and _Broadway Bound_, you are all welcomed to read this if you want to get a very paltry idea on what the plotlines are focusing on. But for those who literally **despise** spoilers, turn back now or read the story at your own expense.

_Lesson One…_

His eyes practically winced at the sudden loss of spotlights as they dimmed drastically—_simultaneously…_

People were talking.

The cameraman was sharing a very extensive chat with Jennifer, his blonde-haired beautician and hair stylist. Frankly, he couldn't help but feel as if they were playing some sort of foolish game.

_Pretend, _he thought dreamily, _They're actually pretending as if they're some sort of superstars…_

By the way their lips were moving, he vaguely wondered if they knew just how stardom could gouge a hole in your heart, mind, and soul. How it can even make you feel at times unbelievably vulnerable and counterfeit—

Inuyasha Himes sighed as he sidled out of the grotesque and tawdry, pink couch hunkered on stage. He stretched briefly and quickly readjusted the waistline of his jeans, which were infuriatingly sliding farther down his butt with every subtle venture of movement he made.

Shortly after, he quietly headed for the refreshment stand nearby to grab his coat.

_"I AM NOT ENGAGED TO HER! DO YOU HONESTLY THINK I WOULD HAVE BEEN WITH YOU LAST NIGHT IF I WAS?" Inuyasha shouted as he tried to open the door, only to discover she had locked it. Taking a deep breath, he tamped down his anger and tried again. "Please open the door, Kagome. Let's be mature enough to argue face to face." He heard her softly pad to the door and unlock it_

"I don't know what to think, Inuyasha. Let's not kid ourselves here. Fame, stardom, your name up in lights. I think we both know you are not going to turn your back on that. It's in your blood. You need it to feel complete. I can't compete against that or her. She is more your league than I could ever be."

Though he demanded that Rick, his agent, make sure that Tiffany apologize for the little stunt she pulled on the E, he still felt weirdly unsatisfied and uneasy. That must've been what propelled him to do another show with her; just to figure out why he felt the way he did.

With a heavy sigh, Inuyasha shrugged on his coat and with a quick flick of the wrist, flipped up and straightened out his collar.

Tiffany was nowhere to be found. Once the producer screamed, "And cut!" she'd disappeared miraculously as if into thin air. Could be the fact that Rick did exactly what he was told and now had her in a flounder for words and in a giant uproar of emotions.

_Good, _he thought vindictively, _That's exactly what she gets for proclaiming such crap on television. _

But Kagome—

He felt barren without her. And misplaced and vaguely out of tune with his surroundings knowing that he'd caused her so much pain within just a couple of minutes. Because their relationship seemed so deep, yet so indescribable…he still felt somewhat warmed by the ghostly touch of reassurance. But that still wasn't enough. He wanted to be with her right now, gathering whatever remnants of happiness they've shared, and carefully gluing them back together, piece by fragile piece.

"Hey, where ya goin'?"

_Huh? _Slowly, Inuyasha turned around at the jubilant, otherwise womanly voice. Normally, he would've just continued on fussing with the collar of his jacket rather than just answer, but the voice seemed very new to him and his body acted rashly on impulse without his consent. "Home," he replied shortly.

He came face to face with a blue-eyed redhead undoubtedly sandwiched between her late twenties and early thirties. Her whole body language radiated cheerfulness and sincerity.

"Who are you? I've never seen you around here before?" Before he could even begin to choke on his words, they came tumbling out of his mouth with an uncontrollable velocity that fueled his throat to tighten slightly.

"Oh! I'm Tiffany's sister, Nicole." She politely held out her hand and Inuyasha boldly shook it.

Slowly, his hand slipped out of her grasp, "Tiffany's sister? Funny, she never mentioned to me that she had a sister."

"Well…**_step_**sister more like it. We have different mothers." Regretfully, the woman bowed her head.

"Oh," was all that Inuyasha could say.

"Yeah…well—" Nicole, who seemed like she couldn't be Tiffany's sister by a long-shot, but indeed was, quickly began foraging through her purse, hand wading back and forth through the pile of stuff she'd congested it with, "—Tiffany wanted me to give this to you rather than her. I'll just keep whatever else she said to myself if that's okay."

Inuyasha watched, eyes glistening within the half-gloom like insipid marbles. Tiffany looked up suddenly, mouth slightly parted. Without really thinking, Inuyasha's head shot up to meet her astonished gaze, somewhat shaken up.

"You're eyes…" she started softly, tentatively, "they're so…dark."

Inuyasha's head drooped unexpectedly, lustrous bangs hooding his eyes beneath a mesh of black. "Sorry about that," he apologized, "I was thinking about something."

Her mouth slowly formed a dumbfounded 'O' as she hesitantly began to speak, "Well…if you don't mind listening to my opinion…"

"I do," Inuyasha tersely interrupted.

"Oh…well…" Nicole removed a blank envelope from her purse. It's sides and points appeared roughly bent and crinkled, no doubt from being crammed in such an overcrowded confinement.

Wordlessly, she outstretched her hand in a wary attempt to hand it to him.

Quietly, Inuyasha took it and watched dazedly as Nicole zipped her purse shut, murmured a brief farewell, and headed down the murky, horribly packed-in corridor that he was sure led to Tiffany's dressing room. When his eyes dropped to study the envelope in his hand, he curiously flipped it over and closely observed the sealed flap.

_This must be some kind of joke, _he thought.

**10:00 PM**

Out of anger, maybe even out of envy, and especially out of spite, Kagome refused to watch the special, one-night viewing of "Host and Company" on the E! Though she may've felt a teensy bit guilty for missing it on purpose, there were just some things she was determined to toss aside to the wind, whether they were emotions or insubstantial memories. But then come those "insubstantial" memories that can never be erased from your mind—Memories of joy and fiery passion…past memories of your lover's bold and tender caresses during that special night that deemed both of you more than just friends, maybe even **_best_** friends. During then, there came a time when that age-old talent of forgetfulness seemed moribund and useless.

Kagome sighed heavily as she plopped down onto the couch in front of her TV. It was currently switched on Cartoon Network, a show that would've knocked her maturity standards down a notch if someone were to walk in on her at that very moment. But it was like a miraculous, otherwise essential panacea. It healed mostly all of her ails and unbearable heartaches.

She needed something to make her laugh. She needed something that would keep her mind from straying and wondering exactly if Inuyasha was home yet or if he was painting the town red with…with Tiffany. She needed…hope. She needed something warm and tender. She needed a drape of black drawing lazy lines down her bare skin.

She needed…Inuyasha.

Getting up with a hefty sigh, the small, remote control beside her went completely unnoticed and toppled over the edge of the sofa at the abrupt shift of her weight, crashing to the floor. Buttons were pushed, and the volume grew steadily louder, clearly proving that it was broken and that there was no hope for it now.

Kagome felt her heart clench as she absentmindedly froze in mid-step. She listened as the TV hissed and shushed like some incoherent drunkard. Then, as if a crack of lightning flitting across the heavens, she heard a voice. A deep, rich, but velvety voice.

"So, Inuyasha, how does it feel be a star and, to the ladies, a million-dollar beefcake?"

Her ears practically strained to savor his memorable, hearty fits of laughter.

"I'm not sure," he answered slowly. Suddenly, he stopped laughing and bowed his head, "Sometimes I just don't know how to feel about that, Jake."

**1:29 PM**

Chirping.

Birds were chirping happily in his ears.

Groaning sleepily, Inuyasha felt himself grow rigid as he lied there in bed, basking in the warm sunlight coursing in through his bedroom window. A prickle of pain probed at his eyes, persistently trying to gouge them out of their sockets. He blinked them several times until they finally began to tear up and alleviate the pain.

Heaving a long, weighty sigh, he smoothed his hands up his bare chest and cupped them under his head. Carelessly, he kicked off the thick, plaid comforter just partially covering his half-naked body. Sweat was sloughing off of him in a thin sheet that glistened dully underneath the sunlight dancing across his skin. Unluckily, it only caused the heat surfacing slowly in a blistery brush of air around him to grow even more intense and intolerable.

_Kagome…_

Groggily turning over onto his side and propping himself up on the bend of his rickety elbow, Inuyasha craned his neck slightly to look at the phone sitting on his bedside table nearby his lamp and digital alarm clock. With his free hand, he sifted through the long list of names and numbers building up on his caller ID, some of which dated all the way back to three months ago.

_She hadn't called me at all last night…_

Frantically, he scanned through the list one more time until both the names and numbers became nothing but skittish blurs on the LCD screen. His heart practically skipped a beat when the message "End of RVC" materialized on the screen. He withdrew his arm slowly as he rolled over onto his back, causing the bedsprings to screech and bounce. Just barely he made out the garbled sounds of the TV staring back at him from the safety of its chestnut, entertainment center. It was actually mocking him, he thought.

After he came back home last night, he decided to change into his nightclothes before calling Kagome and leaving a brief message on her answering machine. Shortly afterwards, he lounged about on his bed, looking at TV, eagerness burning inside his heart until the pain became so torturous and agonizing hat it lulled him into a very deep sleep. A very deep sleep that soon wasted away into a tranquil and endless plain of darkness.

Just like the calm before the storm.

_But I remember so clearly, _he thought carefully to himself while staring up at the craftily molded ceiling looming over him.

_"Shh, baby, don't cry. Mommy doesn't hurt. Always remember, baby, Mommy loves you."_

He'd dreamed that she was still with him…reacquainting herself with his father…chatting happily with Kagome…giggling softly as Kagome blushed at her mentioning something about him—

_**No**! Not again…_

Suddenly, a precarious tremor shook briefly throughout his entire body as the faint sounds of metal colliding into metal snaked its way into his ears. He felt something constrict painfully within his chest as an excruciating shard of pain pierced his flesh like a ruthless dagger. Quickly, he gripped his heart through the flimsy material of his tank top with his right hand. Doubling over in immense pain, he grimaced darkly.

_No…where's my medicine?_

Another upsurge of pain suddenly flooded through his veins like a wave washing up on shore, sending him careening off the bed with a dull thud. With great effort, he tried to brace himself on the palms of his hands only to find himself clenching the carpet in a severe death-grip, nearly ripping it. The stress of it all was pressing mercilessly down on him like a block of steel, nearly crushing him and pushing him to asphyxiate out of sheer fear of growing unable to breathe.

"My…medicine," he wheezed to the uncaring silence.

With a nasally intake and outtake of breath, Inuyasha tried his best to stagger to his feet, but failed miserably. When he came home last night, he'd stowed his bottle of Valium in the medicine cabinet before calling Kagome. But—

_I won't be able to make it in time. _

His eyes broadened and oddly began to resemble small, gut-wrenching flashlights. Imaginary alarm clocks started to chime riotously in his head, rocking against the walls of his mind.

Just then, the phone began to shrill madly off the hook.

**1:50 PM**

Beyond the threatening snarls of engines and the nauseating smell of exhaust, Kagome tried to hold her cell phone as steady as humanly possible to her right ear while trying to weave in and out of traffic. She sighed dolefully when thoughts of Inuyasha and his burly arms wrapped around her invaded whatever unoccupied space left within her mind.

_Why isn't he picking up the phone? _

Abruptly, the profuse flood of cars began to slow. Quickly, Kagome jabbed her foot down on the brake just as soon as she came to the traffic light. Moments later, fingers drumming frantically against the steering wheel, she began to chant, "C'mon Inuyasha…pick up…pick up…pick…**_up_**!"

When the infernal buzzing didn't stop vibrating against her ear, she angrily snatched the phone down for a brief analysis before ending the call and switching it off, flippantly stuffing it in the brown purse sitting in the passenger's seat beside her.

"Damn," she cursed softly to herself when traffic began to pick up again, "I know he's home, but why isn't he picking up the phone?"

The car veered, skidding across several traffic lanes until it was in the far left lane. Switching on her left signal light, Kagome swerved sharply onto the road that led to Inuyasha's loft, worry clearly bleeding through the irises of her eyes.

**1:55 PM**

At that same moment, Inuyasha's heart stammered briefly as he lost whatever leverage he was left to resort to besides the walls and the carpet currently cushioning his bare knees. His arms felt swollen, both their bones and joints aching, practically screaming out in pain. He tried his best to refrain from squalling out in agony as the carpet continued to rub his knees raw as he tried to crawl his way towards the bathroom like a helpless inch-worm.

_Inuyasha smiled over at his Mom. She was dropping him off for his final voice lesson before the recital tonight. "You're not going to miss it are you Mom?"_

Isabelle glanced at her son. "Nope wouldn't miss it for the world. Your dad is going to be there too. So what song are you doing? I think you can tell me now." She teased as she pulled in front of the studio.

"Nope." He answered back smiling. "It's a surprise. Love ya Mom!" He kissed her cheek before grabbing his bag and leaping out of the car.

"**_Ahhhh_**!" As if right on cue, Inuyasha's spine curled tightly inward as he lurched backwards onto his knees, cupping either side of his forehead in his large, sweaty palms. No matter how much he tried…those thoughts…those same, forsaken thoughts…trickled into his mind like stagnant water. Impishly, they played around with his mind, pushing various, emotional buttons and pummeling all of his weak spots until they finally caved in.

He could find neither the strength nor the confidence to pick up the phone when it rang. His limbs, mainly his entire body, felt stiff and achy. And he was on the floor, unable to get up and reach his bathroom. The carpet felt scorching hot now, grazing against his knees as he tried harder to gain back whatever control he'd lost within the flood of misery and his high-pitched yowls.

_Inuyasha turned to wave and saw everything, the world slowed each second in all its agonizing detail played before him. The sound of tires screeching, the black sports car colliding with his mother's sensible sedan. The sound of metal crumpling, glass breaking, metal screeching on pavement. His own scream seemed to take forever. Tossing his bag to the ground he ran, to the intersection. The cars had stopped climbing onto the side of the sedan he looked into the passenger compartment. His Mother's violet eyes met his own. "Shh baby, don't cry. Mommy doesn't hurt. Always remember baby, Mommy loves you." Her eyes shut._

Fingernails biting into the tender flesh of his neck, Inuyasha's breath suddenly grew ragged, mouth running dry. His heart was throbbing desperately against his chest, leaving behind only a fleeting ghost of pain.

_Breathe. No! I can't…I…can't…_

The walk-in, cedar-lined closet was dark, voided of all light except for the tiny sliver of sunlight just barely seeping in through the cracks of the closed, bathroom door. But what really sent a devastating blow to his mind was the fact that there was nowhere to hide. Nowhere whatsoever that could safely encapsulate his body.

Slowly his eyes widened like those of a petrified deer.

"M—mom…" he whispered to himself, something within his chest tightening and causing his voice to crack.

Knees falling out from beneath him, Inuyasha crumpled to the floor. Winding his arms around his knees and roughly bringing them up to his chest, he tried his best to curl himself up into a protective ball, back rocking slightly as he made a frantic attempt to secure the uproar of panic arising within him.

His lashes fluttered imperceptibly until they rested softly on his deathly pale skin. And while he lay there rocking back and forth, trying his best to block out the melodic cries of his doorbell, he sniveled gently as those cries soon deteriorated into those of his mother.

**2:20 PM**

With renewed persistence and determination, Kagome continued to ring Inuyasha's doorbell. After the tenth ring, she pivoted and walked the short distance towards one of the corridor's windows on the second floor. She looked at the cars passing the warehouse by without a single care in the world, only fueling her anger to spiral upwards into a bloody uproar.

Didn't they see what was happening?

"No," she spoke softly beneath her breath, "They just don't know."

_Don't know what? The pain settling deep down in my chest and how it tugs fiercely with every thought that pops up in my mind concerning Inuyasha?_

Some two minutes later, something stirred uncomfortably inside her as she began to notice that Inuyasha still hadn't come to the door. Immediately, she raced back over to repeat her assault upon the doorbell. _C'mon, Inuyasha, _she thought frantically, _answer…the…door!_

Two minutes…then three minutes later, he still didn't answer, and Kagome began to feel her knees grow weak and wobbly…and numb. Almost as if she'd wolfed down an entire bottle of Whiskey.

Coiling her fingers into a tight fist, Kagome began to pummel the door, simultaneously screaming out Inuyasha's name.

"Inuyasha!" she shouted, "Inuyasha! In-u-yash-a!

Mostly out of habit, Kagome made a downward reach for the cell phone squirreled away in her purse, but neither it nor its container was anywhere to be found.

"No!" she squealed, and began to beat roughly upon their door again, "Inuyasha! Inuyasha, please open up!"

There was not a trace of doubt in her mind now that he was in trouble. That he was probably—

_Going through another painful episode, _she thought to herself, nearly panicking as she recalled what had happened the first time she'd witnessed him…backing into a narrow corner in the back of the classroom with tremendous fear swallowing his ordinarily calm expression whole.

_Bam! Bam!_

Beating harder, faster against the door, Kagome continued to scream out his name until she was sure she heard her voice carry throughout the entire building.

_Boom!_

But then the hinges loosened and the wood splintered.

The door slammed open with such speed, Kagome nearly jumped back.

"In—Inuyasha?" she whispered.


	2. Lesson 2: Assumptions

_Lesson Two…_

**Assumptions**

"In—Inuyasha?"

Kagome stood there for a second, debating whether or not to walk inside and risk witnessing a replay of what had happened back in high-school. It was hard, she thought. Keeping eye contact with him while his back hugged tighter against the concrete wall of some confined alcove…

And watching as the fear profusely swelled up in his eyes…

_I don't ever want to see anything like that again, _she told herself.

"But I…I need to go in," she spoke slowly…softly, "He's—" She took a step forward, "—in trouble and—" Then another, "—and…when he's in trouble—" She took one more step before pausing in her tracks, "—I start thinking on how I can't really see myself without him."

The proximity of the sun seemed so close, breathing hotly down her neck through the windows outside in the cramped hallway. Her knees locked and then slackened before she wandered around with sure steps through Inuyasha's loft, inspecting every room, nook, and cranny with perpetual vigilance. But when she arrived at his bedroom, just a mere few seconds away from checking the hall closet behind her, she felt her heart clench in an attempt to warn her about something, something that she'd clearly overlooked.

With observant eyes, Kagome stalked across the room to study his naked mattress and the crumpled heap of blankets sitting in front of her feet. Experimentally, she held her hand out and smoothed it across the subtle lumps of the mattress, dully noting that the spreading was doing nothing to assuage its uncomfortable roughness.

"Ka—Kagome…"

"Huh?" Impulsively, her head shot up and something in her neck popped, "Ouch!"

Massaging the tender jugular of her neck, Kagome averted her gaze to stare at the cracked door of what she presumed was a linen closet. Absentmindedly, she moved towards it, gulping when she felt her heart begin to race with a singular vengeance. Outstretching her left hand, she gripped the doorknob and gingerly pulled the door back to reveal a panicky Inuyasha to her gradually bulging eyes.

"Inuyasha!" she shrieked.

Quickly, she raced over to his side and stooped down, fumbling anxiously with her hands while deciding just how to comfort him. From what she could make out, he was shaking and murmuring inarticulately underneath his breath, the muscles in his arms appearing coiled and extremely taut beneath the slick, tight cage of his skin.

Her presumptions were confirmed. These depictions were all definite signs of a panic attack.

_A phone. I…I need a phone!_

"Inuyasha, I'll be right back. I promise." Hefting herself back up onto her feet, Kagome made a mad dash for his bedroom where she remembered spotting a telephone sitting on the bedside table. With little clarity, she picked up the receiver and held it close to her ear. After she dialed 911, she listened distantly as the phone hummed gently, almost sporadically, her eyes never parting away from the entrance to the walk-in closet.

**10:40 AM  
**_The day after…_

Could it be that fate was conspiring against her?

Was it the criminal cause that sent Inuyasha in a down spiral and shook him over the edge into another unfaithful episode?

_Who knows, _Kagome thought miserably to herself as she brought the thin bed sheet up into the air and whipped it down with such force that she heard herself gasp when she thought that it might rip in half.

Inuyasha was currently in the hospital and he'd called her some hours ago asking her if she would come over and visit. She put up a good brawl against her other half, which kept on repeating over and over again during their conversation, "Tell him no. After all, it's hard enough knowing that he's there because he had another anxiety attack."

"But I want to go," she whimpered in return, "I want to see how he's doing."

"No, no, no, **_no_**! Tell him that you…have to wash your hair…or that you have to go out. **_Any_**thing would be perfect rather than to just let his so-called "velvet-smooth" words hold sway over you." She felt the cruelty and the bestial aura of her counterpart pushing through her chest and, as an aftershock, shuddering through her veins. It felt like it was staring murderous daggers unto her while she, like a timid child, hugged tighter against some slim corner that she knew could never possibly accommodate her body's width even if she were to thrust harder against it in a futile attempt to stretch it.

But—

"His words don't control me," Kagome grounded out, "I control myself."

"Humph," came her counterpart's terse reply, "Just nonsense to my ears…"

The sun was beaming, beaming enough to where she was sure she was going to throw chunks up all over her white bed sheets. That would've certainly caused a stain that would undoubtedly take days to wash out, but she could've cared less. Inuyasha was in the hospital, and here she was, fluffing her pillows, vacuuming the floor, cleaning up here and there to make things neat for good old Nobody. And did she try to stop herself? Did she even make an attempt to call Inuyasha back and tell him that there were voices wrangling inside her head and keeping her from visiting him?

No. I can't tell him that… 

But then what exactly **_could _**she tell him?

Here was the so-called "boy-turned-man" who she was obviously sexually attracted to. By car, he was just a mere two miles away, waiting on her to show up with his medicine and a few bottles of Yoo-hoos.

Kagome leaned over, trying to tuck the ends of the bedspread into the corners of her queen-sized bed. It was a frustrating job if you didn't quite understand how to do it correctly (or if you were somewhat height-challenged), but she'd eventually learned from her mother. She wasn't expecting it to be such a tedious task though when following her mother's guide, _Steps to a Better Bed_.

_You have to lift the mattress slightly on one side and tuck the bedspread in neatly after you roll up its ends, _she heard her mother direct while giving a visual example, paying little attention to her daughter who simply stood there on the sidelines. _Then you have to go to the other side. Oh, now this is the trickiest part yet. You have to lift up the mattress again and try your best not to wrinkle up the top or both your corners and ends will look terrible. I know you don't want Inuyasha to stumble upon a messy bed, do you?_

She sighed.

Yep. That was her mother. Always wanting to intensely analyze things further than they should be.

Sighing, Kagome straightened and took a couple of steps back to observe her handiwork.

No strange unevenness, just about-smooth plains of white.

_Good, that looks about right. _

She turned around to face the small, somewhat off-whitish heap of pillows propped against the wall nearby her bedroom door. Strolling towards them and pulling them into her arms, she walked back to the bed to arrange them against the headboard. Dusting her hands off, she pulled away and smiled lightly in satisfaction. That is, until she'd realized that there was nothing else left to do.

She'd planned on spending the whole day cleaning, but when she consulted her _To-Do _list hidden in the left pocket of her Capri, she found out that there was something hastily scribbled down at the bottom with a misshapen star in front of it.

_If all else fails, visit Inuyasha for the sake of sanity. _

**11:25 AM  
**_At the hospital…_

"Mr. **_Himes_**, what has gotten into **_you_**?"

A middle-aged woman fully clad in a nurse's uniform and white tennis shoes just barely evaded the tray that was hurled at the door. She stumbled over her shoestrings and collapsed to the floor with her expression loudly proclaiming that was scared out of her wits. Her eyes were glued shakily on the patient lying in the hospital bed a good few feet away. She started to tremble violently now, inching slowly towards the door with her eyes resembling colossal, brown headlights. She didn't even bother to maneuver around the clutter of food that speckled the floor, oozed down the smooth wood of the door, and gushed from the upturned tray nearby the bathroom door.

Inuyasha watched her as he sat, hoisted on top of his hands in the bed, clenching the mattress hard between his fingers. He felt no pity, just anger and something that might've been anticipation. He wanted to be left alone. He wanted to stew in his own thoughts without somebody disturbing him every few seconds with nonsensical chit-chatter.

He wanted Kagome.

Kagome… 

Bowing his head, he listened as the nurse scrambled out of the room; no doubt to alert the doctors and tell them that he was in dire need of his medication. He pictured her nearly stumbling to catch up with his doctor only to tug frantically at his sleeve.

"_He's finally gone mad!" _she'd tell him.

Inuyasha felt a smile thinly stretch his lips. Really, this hospital and its many "incompetent" occupants were teething on his last nerves. All he wanted was to be left alone.

"That's all," he mumbled to himself, "I just want to be left alone. How can that possibly be too much to ask for?"

Steadying himself, Inuyasha slid smoothly back into the bed and propped his head against the uncomfortably thin and flimsy heap of hospital pillows. He didn't bother with the sickly smelling blanket, just opting to lounge there with his legs bare and his thoughts towering loftily above him like a grim shadow. Plus he felt oddly hot and sweaty and flushed with lava-slick discomfiture. It was unusually hard this time to curb or shove his anger aside like he'd done so many times in the past. He couldn't quite understand why, but his gut clenched and subtly implied that he'd actually gone mad.

He smiled to the gurgling television set hoisted up in the far left corner of the irregular-shaped room. Feeling the sunbeams serenade up his legs, Inuyasha, sadly, couldn't fight off the sudden warmth of grogginess that fell over him. It felt like a heavy comforter that was purposefully sprayed with too much vintage perfume—the eye-watering kind that your grandparents only wore on special occasions.

He could never really stand the perfume that stuck to his grandmother like glue every time he went to church with her. It smelt like flowers that were trying to mimic the soothing and addicting fragrance of roses.

He crinkled his nose in distaste, the faint wraith of remembrance invading his senses with sickening ferocity. The insistent drone of the television was somehow suddenly torn away from his mind…from his usually restless senses. He bizarrely began to feel like the white dot on a TV before it died completely into pitch black. The air was slowly growing overpoweringly thick and stifling until the disturbing solitude that was darkness overcame him, devoured him whole. What was such a strange and unexplainable feeling on the outside, his body seemed to treat it with the welcoming warmth of open-mindedness on the inside.

For that reason did he frown.

For that reason did he wet his chapped lips with his tongue before bolting upright and propping his head against the stanch-white wall.

But it wasn't exactly the reason to why he didn't snarl in parched vexation when the door to his room creaked open like a ghost crying out beneath the eerie din of the wind. He didn't even bother to spare a sideward glance to see who it was squeaking over the bridge of spilt food and cursing softly beneath their breath when their shoes landed in one of the many small puddles of mush. The person groaned in repulsion, and not a doubt in the world traced the edges of his mind that it was a woman.

His heart sputtered. "Ka—Kagome…" he felt the yearning to whisper and twist his head around slowly.

There she was, her raven, downy hair curling around the underside of her chin and cascading silkily down her back. She was dressed primly in a black tank top and a pair of dark denims with the tail of her brown belt wagging lifelessly at him from its loophole.

_She probably couldn't get it all the way around, _he inferred briefly.

"I see you changed your hair," he let his voice linger flatly in the air, but nonetheless allow it a subtle, triumphant scream, _Ha! I knew you weren't expecting me to notice the change! But I did! Ha, ha! _

The room, with its very white walls and its skid-marked tiles and its unbearably miniscule television, seemed to whittle away slowly out of existence around him until it was all but an enviable blur._ Like being in heaven_, he thought. _Like flying amidst its clouds and enjoying its never-ending rays of light…_

He smiled at her.

She smiled back.

Her hand outstretched carefully, steadily as she set down a brown, paper bag that held a very malformed shape to it, on the shabby bedside table next to him. And dark splotches, far darker than its intended color, freckled the bag, clearly conveying to him that it held something wet in its brown bowels.

He shifted just a little in his bed, wincing when it groaned and shrilled fleetingly. The false obstruction that was allegedly a dream, crumbled. But Kagome was still there, and had decided to settle down in the chair pushed up against the half-wall that veered off to accommodate a rather spacious bathroom. Her eyes were trained remarkably well on the dust-speckled linoleum and the air swirled around her with troubling calmness. He pinched his lips shut against the soft cough that bubbled up in his throat.

Kagome's eyes flicked up suddenly to rest on him, inexplicably wide. They gradually softened along the edges with inoculate velocity when she spoke, "Sorry. I've been…spacing out a lot lately."

"Why?" A worried frown settled between his brows and crinkled his nose slightly.

She shrugged and then gave a wry, humorless laugh, "How should I know?"

The gleam in her eyes clearly told Inuyasha that she meant for the comment to be sarcastic, so he hunkered down further into his pillows to let the silence wrap around him like a tight, plastic bag and, bit by bit, overpower him. He turned his head to peer out the window nearby, despite the fact that he couldn't see anything but the bluish-white of the pure and crystalline skies. He wanted to smile then, but had a sudden change of mind not to as the countless voices gurgling from the television twisted and squirmed around his eardrums.

Kagome bowed her head, "Look…I—I'm sorry."

Inuyasha didn't smile. He didn't even frown. His expression remained blank and aggravatingly elusive. "I understand. The way you've been acting lately kinda tells me you're trying to avoid me," he replied.

Kagome peeked up at him through her mascara-laden eyelashes, which created a stark contrast to her hazel, puppy-dog eyes. "Really?" she inquired flatly, her head perking up a little bit higher with restored valor, "How would you know anyway?"

Inuyasha let a broad grin snake across his lips, "Now that was a ridiculous question," he spoke smartly, wholly aware of her anger, "I've been hanging around you since high school, Kagome. I know most of your likes, dislikes, and objects of avoidance and of course—"His eyebrows rose slightly, an intimate fire kindling brilliantly in his eyes when he rolled his head around to stare at Kagome, "—I know your deepest desires."

A fiery blush lit Kagome's cheeks. Helplessly, she let thoughts of how she'd spoon her naked body against his in bed shudder through her mind. She fumbled nervously with her hands then, just like she had when she'd spotted Inuyasha curled up in a defenseless ball in the walk-in closet of his bedroom.

Her eyes stung, almost as if fire were laving the backside of her eyeballs with its countless, flailing, orange-red tongues. She tried to fight off the prickle of tears developing beneath her lids. But they rose with growing defiance, passing off the feeling that her eyes were practically swimming in a pool of salty water. To her misfortune, what little control she had left shook and rattled until it folded in on itself and crumbled.

She started to cry, to cry for all she was worth.

Inuyasha watched her weep, his smirk melting into a concerned frown. He studied the tears intently as they trickled down from her swollen eyes and rolled quickly down her red-tinged cheeks to fall like raindrops onto her lap, creating dark blemishes on her denims. He felt his throat tighten when he spotted the mascara coating her lashes, start to wither away and run down her cheeks in gut-wrenching, black currents. He wanted to stretch his hand out to her, to caress her cheek and calm the lashing waves that were controlling her grief. But he couldn't, thanks to the bitter IV biting into his arm, so he decided to use his voice to cradle her sadness.

"Kagome, please, stop crying. Please."

She sniffled sharply, but nevertheless kept on crying.

"Kagome, if you don't stop crying," Inuyasha started again, "you're going to look like Rudolph."

She inhaled tersely through her nose again, yet this time a partial smile lit a small corner of her pink lips. She looked up at him, wiping away the watery mascara staining her cheeks with her wrist. She folded her chapped lips inward to let her tongue sweep deftly over them. She pinched them tighter together when the salty taste of her tears lurking in the unnoticeable crevices in her lips, caused her taste buds to tingle. Shortly, she relieved them to the balmy air that flooded the room.

Though her eyes were chaotically smudged with unruly hues of red and black, she jumped up to wrap her arms around Inuyasha and buried her face deeply in the crook of his warm neck. Love, the strong tie that rectified a broken heart, materialized like a beacon of light in her chest. That's why she continued to hug him. That's why she lifted her head and kissed him tenderly. That's exactly why he returned the kiss with equal ardor and their lips molded so well together with slick perfection.

But Intrusion fell to Hatred's feet and pledged complete subservience to him like the mangy, backbiting weasel it was.

A gasp suddenly bounced off the walls of their minds as they briskly parted away from their kiss.

The door to the hospital room was ajar. Both Kagome's and Inuyasha's lips were swollen to a ripe crimson and the flood of color in their cheeks did nothing to lighten the situation any. When the nurse—Nurse Betty to be exact—poked her head in to see if everything was all right, she grew white with shock at the intimate sight before her.

"Umm, good afternoon," she spoke charily with a country accent, "I was sent to wipe up the…umm…mess from—" she glanced down briefly, "—the floor."

"Oh. **_Oh_**!" Kagome twirled around to eye the gooey puddles of food on the floor next to the door, "Umm…let me help you out with that."

"Oh but, ma'am, you don't have to do that."

"Nonsense. I don't want you to clean up this mess by yourself."

The nurse didn't say a word as she wheeled in a large, yellow bucket by the mop handle lolling out of its mouth, leaving the door wide open.

Kagome tossed Inuyasha a suspicious glance over her shoulder, her eyebrows skyrocketing beneath her bangs so that it seemed like she was actually giving him a look of…malicious promise, "That reminds me. I never got a chance to ask you about that."

"About what?" Inuyasha asked non-too-innocently enough.

"Where exactly **_did_** that food come from, hmmm?"

Inuyasha pinched his lips together in a tight circle and began to whistle to a random melody as he laced his fingers together in his lap.

Kagome gave him a playful glare before bouncing off to help the nurse out with the spilt food. During the whole while, she was plainly unaware of the loving glint in Inuyasha's eyes as he gazed at her from the cushiony imprisonment of his bed.

**10:00 PM  
**_One day later…_

"Now you're sure you took your medicine?"

"Yep."

"But should we be doing something so…rigorous?"

"Kagome, what could possibly be so rigorous about this?"

"Well…umm…you could definitely break something. A bone maybe."

A soft sigh splintered the frail silence, "It's your turn, Cinderella. Be sure to be gentle on my…**_bones_**."

Kagome scowled heatedly at Inuyasha, whose bare chest was pulled flush against her scantily clad back, his long fingers clenching the slick game mat on either side of her quivering body. Carefully, she reached for the spinner and pulled it towards her. Sighing, she flicked the arrow with her thumb and watched it sweep in a blur across the small rainbow of colors.

Inuyasha shook fiercely, grappling desperately for balance. He grunted. Kagome bit her bottom lip and fought down a threatening blush.

"You know…this position is really…uncomfortable," she murmured meekly.

"Yeah. Now if we were in bed…"

"INUYASHA!"

The arrow slowly came to a halt.

Left foot red.

Instantly, Kagome felt her shoulders grow slack from exertion, "Darn it." She glanced over her shoulder, bobbing her head up and down continually to see exactly where the red spot was. However, just as she'd predicted, no sooner had she lifted her head again did it make sharp contact with Inuyasha's jaw and sent her in a rattled heap to the ground, "Ouch!"

"You okay?" Inuyasha peered down his nose at her, drawing a hand up to his chin to see if any noticeable damage was done. A light smirk curled his lips when she began to massage the ache out of the top of her head and tossed him a scorching frown, "Looks like you're the one breaking the bones here."

"Hardy-har-har," Kagome replied dryly, flipping herself over onto her back so that she could use both her hands to vigorously soothe the dull ache pulsing in her head. She closed her eyes impertinently with a seemingly incorrigible grimace, tossing her head over to the side, which left one crook of her neck visible to Inuyasha's restless eyes. Immediately, they ventured down from the blue spot on the mat above, to lavish the sinuous curve of her neck with intense scrutiny. He gulped quietly, but was careful not to make a sound as he dived in to steal a swift taste of her creamy flesh.

Kagome gasped, "Eeek! IN-U-YASH-A!"

All of this was his fault, she kept on repeating to herself. Even though Inuyasha just got out of the hospital yesterday, the day after served as a whole different ballgame to him.

He'd invited her down to his loft for a nice dinner for two. That night, she was fairly surprised to see the front door back up and not dangling helplessly from its hinges. Kagome made a very weak show of proving to him that the door was still in working order by trying to pull it back into place between its doorframe, one of her many errands to do before she went out to go visit him. When he got home from the hospital, there was not a single doubt in her mind that it fell apart even more terribly than the last time.

Her eyes gazed heavily, nervously at the door.

"You know the strangest thing happened." Inuyasha flashed a curious glance at the now up and working door, "I just came in and in a heartbeat it fell off the hinges."

Kagome's eyes grew wide, her mind hurling blindly at her remedy after remedy regarding the predicament she'd gotten herself into. For the rest of the night, she tried not to make any eye contact with him, thinking if she did he'd probably suspect it was her who broke down his door sooner or later. When she'd told him that it was bordering on late and time for her to get back, he'd agreed. She started downstairs for her car only to find out that he didn't want her to _tackle the streets alone_, so she'd allowed for him to tag along behind her in his jeep. Unfortunately, when they pulled up into the drive, she'd concocted a great new game they could play that would surely drag the night to a superb close—Strip Twister. Now how did she come up with this idea knowing that tonight all eye contact was especially prohibited? Because she wanted a feasible excuse to see him…free and liberated to the warm glow of her living room lamps.

All regulations of eye contact were tossed out the window when he lost the first game and had to take off his shirt. Now seemed as unavoidable a time as any and she let her eyes have their way with her as they skimmed up his perceptible muscles and settled, blank and engorged, on his violet orbs. She'd gulped noticeably and he'd only given her a broad grin with decently suppressed sexual-intent.

Now here they were; He was still dressed in his jeans and she was poorly clothed in only her bra and…panties…wedged unfairly between him and the cool game mat. What a world, what a world.

"Hmm…I kinda like this position," Inuyasha murmured huskily.

"Well…I…I d—don't!" Kagome, with renewed fury, started for the couch nearby. She took a forceful intake of breath when strong, pleasurably warm fingers seized her by the ankle and propelled her to barrel over onto her back again, "Hey! What's with—"

Dusky, amethyst, heavy-lidded eyes regarded her closely, steadily. Inuyasha crept closer towards her on his hands and knees until his hands were on either side of her head and his lips were but a mere inch away from hers, breath hot on her cool skin. She shuddered jerkily against him, almost wishing she hadn't done such a thing when he gave her an alluring half-smile. Soon, his lips brushed hers in what was initially a chaste kiss, yet when his tongue plunged gingerly into her mouth, it became a win-lose situation. Little by little, his certainty grew to where it was actually reliable. He began to nudge her legs apart with his right knee while the kiss went undisturbed.

Kagome's groan was swallowed whole by his mouth, which, minutes later, decided to work gradually down the slope of her neck. "Inuyasha," she whispered breathlessly, grasping a sturdy hold on his shoulders, "we need to stop. You need to go home."

"Really," he mumbled, suckling on the squirming thing imperceptibly bouncing up and down in her throat, "Tomorrow's Saturday. I don't have anything planned then."

"Oh God you're insatiable!" Kagome chortled, "That reminds me. I probably should get you a stuffed Energizer bunny for Christmas."

"Aha, ha, ha," Inuyasha gravely muttered, pressing his moist lips against the area just above her breasts.

It was more than likely that the flip-phone sitting on the coffee table in front of the couch didn't like the sudden rouse of indiscipline in their behavior because it began to shrill madly to a smooth-swinging melody.

Kagome immediately broke away from the kiss, wriggled out of Inuyasha's touching-point, and quickly grabbed the phone. Flashing him a brief smile, she tossed open the flap and brought the phone to her ear, "Hello?"

Inuyasha heaved a heavy sigh before pulling himself up onto his feet. Dejectedly, he dragged his feet along the carpet to the couch, where he propped his elbow up against its arm and cradled his cheek in the open palm of his hand, his eyes never leaving Kagome's lounging form.

"Uh-huh," she spoke thoughtfully and delicately into the phone, regardless of the brooding man sitting on the couch behind her, "I know the papers are due on Monday, Jack. Yeah, I'm finished. I can't really see why you have to come down here though."

A fleeting spell of tautness besieged Inuyasha's entire body. Shortly though, slackness replaced it with extraordinary ease and had him leaning heftily against the richly upholstered backrest. There was just something about Jack that sent him for an unwelcoming ride on a fiery merry-go-round.

"Uh-huh," came Kagome again, "I know, I know, I know. Don't worry about it. You can stop by and pick it up in the morning." Wearily, Kagome jerked the flap shut and sat the phone back down on the coffee table, her face set in a pensive frown.

"So did he make you angry?" Inuyasha asked suddenly.

"Not really," Kagome breathed, "He just—" She got up then, prowling around the table like a diligent lioness, her gaze sizing him up feverishly, "—ruined our—" She sashayed towards him and hunkered down in his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and giving him a quick peck on the lips, "—special moment."

"Well, I can't really disagree with that candid remark, Dr. Higurashi." Effortlessly, Inuyasha jumped up with Kagome nestled snugly in his arms, "But I do know what I **_can _**do." When he looked down at her, his eyebrows sprang up and down in a hilarious parody of George Burns, evoking a laugh or two out of Kagome as he started down the hall for her bedroom.

**9:30 AM  
**_The next morning…_

All was calm.

The trees stirred soundlessly outside, yet the icy, morning winds snuck up on the blissfully sleeping couple like a murderer creeping up behind its victim. It was what nudged Kagome out of her pleasant dream and once comfortable slumber. She'd shivered, cursing at the realization that she didn't cover herself up last night since she was evidently naked. She peeped over her shoulder at the dormant figure beside her, sparing a jaw-cracking yawn. Rolling over to snake her arms around Inuyasha's waist, she spooned herself flush and boldly against him.

She heard him exhale an indolent and a somewhat exasperated sigh, definitely the cautionary sound of a person who doesn't like to wake up in the bright, early mornings.

"Well good morning to you, too," she whispered in his ear.

He gave a raspy chuckle; his eyes were still squeezed shut. "Sorry. You of all people should know I'm not a morning person," he said quietly.

Kagome's lips split into a lazy smile. She kissed Inuyasha gently on the cheek before clambering out of bed, embarking on her early search for the scraps of clothing that they left in the wake of their mischievous, late night gathering. Luckily, she'd found her bra lying on top of her dresser and her panties dangling on the doorknob. So far, so good.

Afterwards, she strolled naked into the bathroom to dump them off in the clothes hamper and stalked over to her dresser to get a fresh pair of underwear. Quietly, she headed outside to grab Inuyasha's purple, silk button-down resting on the couch and started for the bathroom adjoined to her bedroom.

Shortly after taking a more than pleasurable shower, she began search for her Garfield house shoes, which she'd successfully found hiding underneath her bed. Slipping them on, she marched back outside, closing the bedroom door delicately behind her before heading for the kitchen. When she heard the doorbell she exhaled an exhausted sigh and changed course, heading for the front door, altogether ignoring the Twister mat still sprawled out in front of the coffee table.

Unlocking the door, she wrenched it open. Standing behind it was neither her most horrifying nightmare nor was it her most favorable dream. But it was unequivocally something that she would've put with the rest of her undesirables…

Uh oh. Now that was…callous.

Kagome blew out a silent breath before speaking, "Good morning, Mr. Offutt."

Jack swept a presumably wary eye over Kagome, yet she remained still and calm until he made a move to come in. Closing the door behind him, Kagome had intended on going back to her bedroom and retrieving the folder that contained the pile of papers Jack had dropped by to get, yet his rumbling voice effectively grounded her.

"Where exactly are you going?" He was staring dead at her, those beady eyes of his putting her under thorough scrutiny.

"If you don't mind," she cheekily replied, "I'm going to get the papers you asked for so that you can leave."

Jack turned around to examine the coat/hat rack standing tall beside the front door; there was a very familiar jacket dangling from one of its hooks.

"I see you have company," he snidely remarked, causing Kagome to pause in her footsteps with her hand clenching the frostbitten doorknob to her bedroom door shakily.

She twisted her neck around slowly. Pinning Jack with a venomous glare, she wordlessly shoved the door open and vanished into the bedroom. She understood clearly where he was getting at and truly didn't feel the need to put verbal reinforcement to the seething inferno dancing beneath her skin.

Jack watched the door silently for a second before heading over to the jacket hanging from the wooden coat/hat stand. Passing a swift, observatory eye over it, his assumption that Inuyasha Himes was in attendance at Kagome's home was easily confirmed. Grinning broadly, he lunged for the coat, pulling it closely towards him, a twisted gleam glowing in his eyes.

That was exactly how Kagome found him once she arrived back at the living room scarce minutes later. Extending her arm out to hand him the manila folder, she saw a small grin play across his lips as he took the folder and handed her the jacket in return.

"Tell Inuyasha for me that I like the jacket," he murmured as he opened the front door and left, pulling it close behind him.

Kagome looked down at the coat in her hand, opting to slip it on to rescue her from the merciless chill. It smelled wonderful; a relaxing blend of cologne and the musky scent that could only belong to Inuyasha. The coldness was driven away by the fragrant nirvana steadily engulfing her and she couldn't help but close her eyes and smile, however, when she stuffed her hands into the coat's pockets, she frowned confusedly and let the splendiferous feeling leave her completely. She groped whatever it was that was hiding in the right pocket. It felt like paper.

Pulling the mysterious object out of the pouch, she found out that it was actually an envelope addressed to Inuyasha. Curiously she flipped it over and held it up to the bit of sunlight streaming in through the living room windows. She hoped that the sunlight would allow her some ability to read whatever was incased in the envelope. When at first she did not succeed in making out any words or even letters for that matter, she squinted her eyes hard and held the envelope further up into the sunlight.

With a sigh, she had to face the fact that all of her efforts proved futile, so she carefully tore it open and pulled out a neatly typed letter.

_Dear Inuyasha,_

_Pardon me for exposing our engagement to the whole world. I know you're a man of principles and my actions took a spill for the worst, but I hope you had a great time after the show. Goodness only knows I sure did. _

_If you ever get this letter, feel free to call me. I'd like to…hear from you again. _

—_Tiffany_

_X O X O _

Kagome's mouth was hanging limply open. She felt her heart stammer against her chest as the letter slipped from her fingertips and glided to the floor. Numbness conquered her entire body and coaxed her to cry and let her breath rip itself from her achy throat in callous pants. She sniffled loudly and gulped, trying to make it for one of the barstools sitting before the island countertop in the kitchen before she collapsed to the floor. With a brusque roar, she shrugged the jacket, **_his _**jacket off of her body and flung it to the floor, caving in beneath the rage kindling in her soul and the sadness brooking from her heart. She heard the shower in her bathroom come to life and start hissing monotonously in her ears. She couldn't wrestle back the dark frown setting in her jaw and in-between her eyebrows. She wanted Inuyasha to come, to see her distress.

Apparently, good fortune seemed to be on her side that morning; Inuyasha came upon her minutes later, dressed only in his jeans, looking quite perplexed.

"What's wrong?" he asked. He began to advance on her.

"Get away from me," Kagome grounded out through clenched teeth.

He stopped, immediately going rigid, "Cinderella…?"

"DON'T…call me that." Kagome gave an austere sniff, her heartstrings plucked agonizingly by the crude fingers of hatred, "I don't ever want to hear you call me that again."

"W—what?" He started for her again.

Kagome deftly hopped off the stool she was sitting in and backed away from him, "Stop! Just get the hell away from me."

Yet again Inuyasha froze in his tracks. He sized up Kagome's murderous expression with startled eyes, unable to understand. Once more he tried to approach her.

Blinded by her fury and heartache, Kagome grabbed a nearby stool and bitterly slammed it down to the ground before her feet, clenching the whitewashed bars jutting out on either side of the stool's backrest with blatant intentions of flinging it. It almost felt like she was hiding behind it, concealing her antagonism and sorrow behind a cheap masquerade of fear, fear of him even remotely touching her.

Inuyasha took in a ragged breath. He took one step back, his eyes never leaving hers. "Kagome," he spoke.

"Just leave," Kagome said calmly, "Just take your jacket and your shirt—" She unbuttoned the silk top she was wearing and yanked it off, which left her standing before him in her lingerie and vulnerable to the nippy breeze. Senselessly, she wadded it into a ball and pitched it at him, "—and **_leave_**!"

Hesitantly, Inuyasha did as he was told. He grabbed his jacket and shirt from the floor and murmured a tender farewell to Kagome before proceeding towards the door. Along the way though, he discovered an opened envelope and an unfolded letter beside it that was oddly determined to regain its rectangular shape. He glanced over his shoulder to see if Kagome was watching him and felt a spark of relief sag on his shoulders when he saw that she wasn't. Quickly he seized the letter, unfolding it further to read it hastily to himself.

A few seconds later, he blanched. Casting a disbelieving glance at the open entrance of the kitchen, he wetted his lips. Hearing her heavy, dragging sobs, he fought with himself to confront her again and present her with an explanation that would hopefully make everything all right and drive her straight into his arms again. Unfortunately, he couldn't find the willpower to do so and instead made an unsure beeline for the door, both his incredulity and fractured heart the only few things steering him straight through the door and outside to his jeep.


	3. Final Lesson: Loving You

_Final Lesson…_

**Loving You**

She hadn't expected for pain to feel so…painful.

It felt like she was being ripped in two and then diced into countless, tiny, jigsaw pieces that were all poured into a small box and then shipped off to some stranger, to some faraway land she'd never even remotely heard of before—like Ljubljana. And, sadly, she was never put back together. Neither did she live happily ever after. And later, she even came to realize that she wasn't thought of with high enough respect to be spared a remorseful (or even pseudo endearing) eulogy.

The sun was setting beyond the sherbet-colored horizon, dying into a cascade of star-freckled darkness and letting the moon take over for a short while. But that didn't matter. That couldn't possibly matter, not in the least, because they didn't care. Both the moon and the sun could've cared less that it took Kagome hours to fold up the Twister game mat and put it back into its respective box, and to align the kitchen chairs back in front of the island top all while trying earnestly not to let the dam restraining the torrential river-rapids that were her emotions from drowning her, from suffocating her.

It took her two hours to complete those chores. Though so much time wasted was quite unnecessary and uncalled for (and could've been well spent on other things), she couldn't slake the numbness that pervaded her body and made her movements grow weary and sluggish. In fact, her weariness caused her to break down several times in wracking sobs and seek comfort in just sitting still for 15 minutes at a time just to sulk and sniffle and whimper. Relief of her pain seemed so distant then, she recalled.

After she finished tidying up both the living and kitchen areas, she spied the marked envelope that she'd slit open, the "puppeteer" of her distress, sitting calmly on the floor. She eyed it blankly at first and stooped down, only to let anger wash over her in a gush of roaring inferno. Frowning darkly, she whipped up the envelope and ripped it to shreds and cried out with rage so true and so strong. Then, when there was nothing else to shred, to cleave, she let the pieces float like wanderlust children to the floor.

"Why, Inuyasha?" she asked softly, "Why did you do this to me?"

_But what could you have possibly expected? _the evil half in her cackled maliciously. _He's a star. He's not just a "teenage crush" anymore. He's a celebrity who wants nothing more than some big-breasted floozy to give him a good time. He's a dog, a bastard. Just admit it, poor Kagome. _

"N—**_no_**!" Kagome clasped either side of her head between her hands and collapsed to the floor in a roll and tumble of incomprehensible feelings. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to hold back her tears, but just barely succeeding. "He's not a dog…nor a bastard," she said quietly to herself, "He's…he's the man I…I thought I loved…the man I…I…"

She hunched her shoulders and let way to a noticeable shiver. Toppling over onto her stomach in a sprawl of limbs and hair, she started to weep into the early hours.

**6:13 AM  
**_In the heart of nowhere…_

The sun, with its plump, bright orange face, was close to rising now. Its head peaked over the distant horizon, shedding a diluted, wide-spreading stream of light through the pre-dawn darkness as Inuyasha drove down the winding roads of New York. But he could've cared less. He could've cared less that he'd spent most of his time driving and pumping gas and letting his mind take him wherever it desired, whether the place was a park, a package store, or even a playground on school grounds. Maybe that was why his joy was always actuated by the warm, untroubled hours of the weekends. It gave him enough time to be careless, to actually be free of thoughts that didn't matter.

Today was an exception, however. It was Sunday and he was often still safely tucked away beneath his bedcovers, waiting until 7 AM reared its bubbly head and he would have to drag himself to and from the restroom, priming and preparing himself for church. He'd sometimes even get up much earlier so he could accompany his grandmother to the morning services, yet today proved a different story with an entirely different title, all similarities cast aside.

His fingers coiled tightly around the steering wheel when he tossed a look over at the letter huddled in the empty seat next to him. He exhaled heavily through his nostrils before returning his full attention onto the road. He didn't want to admit it, but he tried every remedy from anger to feigning a complacent composure in order to render himself of the many unpromising thoughts endangering the letter sitting beside him. He would've given anything to give Tiffany a piece of his mind, but such a thing wouldn't have been fair because she didn't write the letter and slip it into his coat pocket. Though…he still felt the baleful itch to do along with his unjust intrigue. After all, she was the **_cause _**of this unfaithful plight, or so he liked to believe.

Inuyasha blew out a silent breath, calmed slightly by the gentle wind tousling his hair like a mother's loving touch. Like **_his_** mother's loving touch.

"Kagome," he called out softly to the wind, keeping his steering careful and steady.

He could feel her name leave a bitter trace of something on his tongue and frowned subtly. But he realized, straight off the bat, that it was more the consequences that he was exposed to after his sudden reaction to runaway from her than that sweet, helpless name of hers. He should've stayed, forced her to stomach the fact that he didn't harbor any feelings for Tiffany, let alone any latent audacity to…do whatever that devastating note implied.

_But what about her? Shouldn't she have trusted me?_ _Shouldn't she have seen that I loved her and no one else? _

**4:04 PM  
**_The clinic…_

Today didn't deserve to be so luminous and cheery. That was the very first thing that the voices inside Kagome's head bellyached unhandsomely about. And she couldn't refuse them, couldn't shake off the feeling of correspondence with their complaints.

Earlier that day, she actually put up social barriers against Chris during their session. She didn't utter a single word while Jack scooted transitionally into her position under his own monarchy, shouting and screaming his little head off at the poor boy as if he were a dog.

"Don't do that!" she remembered him bellowing and wrenching Chris's sketchpad from his fingertips, tossing it aside against a nearby wall, "How can you actually do something that will have so little promotion in your life, huh?"

Though she was stuck in her own tiny, secluded world of stolid grays and insipid whites and fallen dreams, there was only so much that she could truly take. She felt her last thread of sanity snap and immediately her face was wiped away of all emotion when she sprung out of a chair close by and onto her feet. Right then she shrieked, "Don't yell at him like that! He's not a fucking dog! If he wants to draw, let him draw. Don't strip him of his own happiness just because someone already did the same to you!"

She was confident that her angry outburst caught the public's eye, made the front-page of that sleazy, fictitious tabloid that was widely distributed to all the employees of the clinic through endless and equally mindless whispers and gossip. And with that confidence—the very confidence that lovingly seized the fire-swathed hand of her deep-seated anger—still in mind, she allowed her rage to dog-walk her past Jack and the clinic doors, fire stabbing at the tender, tear ducts of her eyes, determined to make her cry. Though she put up a good battle against the aching force to do so, it was fruitless to say the least. She felt her protective walls cave in on her and her barriers fall away to a cruel brush of scorching hot air and salty wetness.

By the time she got home and took a good look at herself in her bathroom mirror, she found dry, decrepit tearstains running hideously, ridiculously down her flushed cheeks. It was odd, she concluded sadly, how so much effort put into not revealing your feelings to the public could dissolve in just one swipe of something as easy as surrendering. It was like taking a lot when your eyes were bandanna-tied by the fact that you were actually taking a little, maybe even remarkably less than a little.

Astoundingly though, no matter how much she realized that, her mind was insistent on continually dwelling on questions that concerned Inuyasha and his whereabouts. Questions fueled by her fathomless affinity for him and her blinding rage.

Snatching her head away from the mirror, Kagome bit her bottom lip, desperate to suppress the empty feeling in the pit of her belly. Her heart was racing, but from what she didn't quite know. Her head was spinning and her eyes, she sensed, were closer and closer to growing even more swollen red than they already were.

Gnawing shakily on her bottom lip, mind fogged with weighty thoughts, she steadied herself with the flats of her palms pressed tightly against the counter. She clenched the edge hard between her thumbs and fingers until she heard her knuckles pop quietly and turn a ghostly white. Then, loosening her death vice, she shook her head and released her bottom lip to run a hot, bubble bath for herself, which normally would've washed away her pathetic feeling of distress, yet…it didn't. She spent hours in the tub, letting the steam curl around her with whorled fingers, and letting the water flood up to the bottoms of her ears and weave in and out through the black, matted jungle that was her hair.

She studied her toes wriggling feebly in the water, which was frothed over by the residue of the foamy bubbles that had long since died. She watched them as they danced and jigged and then furled completely into the water only to never come back up for an encore. Leaning her head back against the cool, slick wall, her eyes barely left her feet as she continued to sit there and soak with intentions of not getting out until her whole entire body turned pruny and proved to be fully marinated.

Her plans backfired when her eyes slid shut and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep that left her plainly unaware of the muffled cry of the cordless phone back in her bedroom.

**5:41 PM  
**_Inuyasha's loft…_

The early evening felt distraught and laden with bad luck. That Inuyasha could've sensed even with his eyes closed as he pulled his jeep up along the weathered, cement curb, forced the gearshift to park, and wrenched his keys from the ignition.

He was no longer half naked, but more so fully dress now and badly ragged. His lengthy locks were pulled back in a horse-tail and his sunglasses were still perched evenly on the bridge of his nose.

After he jiggled the key out of the ignition, he cracked open the door and climbed out of the jeep, slamming the door shut and locking it with the tiny, black mechanism dangling from his key ring. He appeared weary, shattered, and worn as he dragged his feet up onto the curb and through the shallow rubble of rocks and filth. When he finally made it through the entrance of the warehouse, which whispered terror in the shadows of dusk, he scrambled back two steps and tugged the sleeve of his coat up and over his nose to fend off an offending odor and to conceal his ugly grimace. Something disgustingly sweet lingered at the base of the stairwell and its smoky tendril-remnants could still be seen dancing in the beam of what little sunlight was left coming through the handful of windows surrounding him.

_Cigars, _he thought nastily, _Damn. _

With a look of pure contempt still plastered on his face, he made his way up the stairwell and to the second floor. When he arrived at his loft, he made sure that he was fully locked in and that the voices that were once wrangling inside his head were left outside because it just wouldn't boil over well to have his safe haven transform suddenly into a panic room.

His initial action was a withering glance pitched clear across the room at one of the lanky barstools assembled in the kitchen. Wordlessly, he traipsed over to drape his jacket over the backrest of one of the stools, which he pulled back slightly to take a seat in. Languidly, he began to toy with one of the tiny steeples of wood that helped hold together the stool's broad spine. He allowed his fingers to explore the chipped wood-varnish until they struck the crest of the miniscule mountain. Abruptly, just when a wonderful idea pummeled him with full force, they stopped.

Quickly, Inuyasha tossed his left arm back to search the left pocket of his jacket for his cell phone. When he felt the slightest, cooling brush of metal, he impulsively pulled out the miniature device and adeptly flipped it open to sift through his contact list for Kagome's phone number. He was completely successful in his findings and couldn't fight back the grin that lit his lips as he pressed the enter button just as soon as the blue highlight bar fell over her name. Craning the phone up to his right ear, his heart skipped a beat at faint remembrance of their argument from yesterday.

_Should I even call her? Wouldn't I be contradicting my earlier thoughts if I were to even do so?_

He sighed, surrendering to the deep-rooted longing to hear Kagome's voice again, even if it might be for the last time. Eyes wilting slightly, he listened as his phone hummed contentedly like a happy cat receiving a back massage that could only be reserved for the gods.

"C'mon, Kagome," he whispered urgently, but his words only hung in the air only to evaporate slowly into the silence.

Kagome never did pick up. The only voice that came close to lightening the heavy burden settling in his chest was her answering machine, "Hello, this is Kagome. I've either stepped out for a moment or become too busy with my own life in order to pick up the phone. Please leave a message at the sound of the beep, okay?"

_Beeeeeeeeeeeep. _

Inuyasha tugged apart the very first button of his crumpled shirt in order to ease the pressure of his collar pressing against his neck and breathe more freely. He took in a gulping breath before speaking, "Umm…hi, Kagome. It's Inuyasha. If you ever get this message," and in a low mumble, "or even listen to it at that, it'd be great if you manage to call me back later…"

He paused, caught at a hanging and uncertain standstill before abruptly adding on before the machine clicked him off entirely, "B—bye."

Slouching further into his seat and releasing a breath that he didn't even know he was holding, Inuyasha turned off his phone and placed it on the counter spooned under his right elbow.

**6:05 PM  
**_Kagome's place…_

Kagome felt a forlorn chill wrap itself unpleasantly around her whole entire body. She tried to move her fingers and found out that they felt numb and paralyzed, their warmth swallowed whole by the monstrous cold. Her entire body, unfortunately, seemed as if it was in the same sinking boat.

_Darn it…what time is it? _She passed a stiff glance up at the soap cubby just above her eyes and realized that it was miracle that she didn't drown during her unexpected snooze.

Even though she'd barely fulfilled the task of taking a full bath, she lunged for the Lever 1000 soap to lather and rinse off what little parts she could before she froze her tail off and literally caught a cold. When she was finished, she unplugged the drain and grabbed her fluffy, magenta towel from the rack hoisted on the wall before her spotless toilet.

She dried off quickly, hoping somewhere in between that it wasn't that late. She chose not to slather herself with bodily perfumes, excluding deodorant, and tossed her pajamas on before bounding out of the bathroom and into her bedroom. Her eyes drank in the sight of the numbers trapped inside the luminous, alarm clock settled on the bedside table. A sigh of relief tumbled out of her mouth, yet it was cut short when she glimpsed the blinker on her answering machine going off and on with distracting urgency.

Kagome's heart hitched slightly. She sauntered over to the machine, secretly thankful for the stream of light emanating from the bathroom. Curiously, she tapped the play button and let the usual lackluster voice of the machine rush over her, "You have 5 messages."

"Wow," Kagome murmured and smiled weakly, "I'm just so lucky."

She waited out the first message, folding her arms and plopping heavily on the edge of her bed, eyes never tearing away from the machine. She was hardly astonished by the fact that a majority of her messages were from telemarketers, but she eventually froze in half-shock—the other half seeming to have already foresaw his phone call—when she heard Jack's voice drift through the speakers like an ominous snake slithering from beneath the shadows of an upturned rock.

"Good evening, Kagome," he spoke, his voice thick and oozy and syrupy, "Hmmm, I'm not the type to leave smooth, beguiling messages like the great Inuyasha Himes might do," a laugh sounded roughly over the other line, like a butter knife skiing along sandpaper, "but I get by."

Kagome rolled her eyes and sighed.

"However, this afternoon you seemed unusually uptight. In order to get you to unwind, I thought we could go out to a play, preferably dinner. The offer will always be there on the table if instead you choose to plan a little play-date with _ahem _Mr. Himes."

Kagome's expression shifted slightly. She felt her heart hop to attention inside her chest.

"Goodnight…Kagome."

_Beep. Clack, clack. _

"Umm…hi, Kagome. It's Inuyasha. If you ever get this message, or even listen to it at that, it'd be great if you manage to call me back later," a brief pause, "B—bye."

At that moment, Kagome felt her whole world crumble. She later remembered her former words of wisdom and sighed, listening to the discordant song of the answering device before hauling herself back up onto her feet to cross the short distance to the bathroom. There, she closed the bathroom door, leaving it cracked so that a narrow stream of light fell on the carpet and winded up the side of her bed; she was in need of a nightlight tonight.

Routinely, she headed over to her bed and pulled back the sheets to cocoon herself in them and wallow profoundly in her thoughts for most of the night until sleep overcame her.

**10:05 AM  
**_A brand new day…_

The birds were chirping to a melodious rhythm that slipped smoothly into Inuyasha's ears and caused him to ponder over his earlier objective of opening his eyes. Instead, he chose to run the palm of his hand along the smooth, cool planes of the unoccupied side of his bed, his movements purely slow and observant. Eyes still shut, his face scrunched up slightly, yet he managed to erase the foul expression with a soundly gulp.

Some opaque ghost inside him already understood his passionate craving to have Kagome's delicate frame drawn flushed against him, but then came this other part, which was trapped in a net of denial. It only made its capture even more torturous by writhing with hopes and dreams that undoubtedly brushed the edge of the Earth. It depended on the truth to snap the net in half and set it free, however, the "truth" seemed oddly and extremely distant.

With a very low groan that elongated to each and every corner of the room, Inuyasha managed to heft himself up into an upright position to stretch and yawn. That finally taken care of, he closed his mouth and took a deep breath that eventually escaped his chest in a heavy sigh.

Kagome hadn't called him back, and the suffocating yearning for her sweet, angelic voice blossomed into a need that was just lashing out for relief.

"Damn it all, Kagome…" he mumbled to no one other than himself, "That letter…that letter was—"

Out of nowhere, his cell phone began to shrill obnoxiously to an upbeat rhythm from its place on the bedroom dresser in front of his bed, causing his thoughts to fall away in shambles. He lifted his head up with a groan and gave the phone sitting across the room from him an incensed glare. When he couldn't will the phone to stop ringing, he wearily swung his feet over the edge of the bed and started for the dresser with short, yet patient strides.

When he got there, he paused briefly, torn crudely by indecision. Still, he picked up the phone and flipped it open, instantly cutting off its ring at mid-cry. Bringing it to his ear, he said softly, "Hello?"

He was half-expecting it to be Kagome and half-expecting it to be Fate checking in to see how it could possibly make it up to him for making his life a living nightmare. He was somewhat disappointed when he recognized Rick's voice on the other end.

"Inuyasha!" Rick started, his voice frantic and ecstatic, "I have some good news and some bad news."

Inuyasha fell silent for a moment. He stood by the dresser with unstable legs that seemed to gradually melt away into nothingness right underneath him. He looked up at the mirror mounted on the wall just above his dresser, examining his reflection with a light, pensive frown shadowing his face.

"Inuyasha," he heard Rick call out worriedly, "Inuyasha, you still there? Inuyasha?"

Inuyasha lifted the cell phone's mouthpiece closer to his mouth. "Yeah," he said, wholly aware that he sounded lost and distant.

"So, which one do you wanna hear first?" Rick inquired, "The good news or the bad news?"

Inuyasha's gaze drifted to land on the smooth, polished surface of the dresser. He could almost see his himself in it and pretended to be infatuated with his bleary reflection until Rick asked him if he was still there again.

"Give me the good news first," he said shortly and with dull finality.

**12:00 PM  
**_Kagome's place…_

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5…"

Pause.

"So it's definitely not "to _atone_" then."

Kagome stared down at the crossword puzzle book sitting in her lap, which was staring lifelessly back up at her. It was taunting her, poking fun at her intelligence with the final row of six, blank squares that separated her from finishing the entire book.

_I hate you, _Kagome thought. _I hate you, hate you, and completely and utterly **hate** you!_

Moving the hand gripping the pencil down to the group of clues packed tightly together at the bottom of the page, she read the final one again, "Across, 14…to blah, blah, blah and…huh?"

Letting the pencil slip out of her grasp, Kagome pitched herself backwards to lie her head down on her pillow. She let her legs straighten, causing the book to trundle over to her left on top of the bed. It fell shut, yet its back flap still hung open in a slight curl.

Hardly fretting over the loss of her page, Kagome stared up at the ceiling in wonder, letting her mind run astray. She began to think about Inuyasha for the hundredth time that day, wondering if he hated her for not calling him back, wondering if she hated him for not calling back, and wondering yet still if he was having good time with Tiffany, Wonderwoman of the 21st century.

She blushed lightly at the thought and forced the image of them together out of her head. Turning over onto her right side, she began to observe the smooth plains of her bedroom floor, a thoughtful expression creeping onto her face. She could've, would've called him, she thought. Yet, every time she thought about doing such a thing, her plans to announce just how sorry she felt for throwing him out seemed to ooze straight down the drain. She would start thinking about the letter that she found in his coat pocket and what it had said.

Simply put, that was all it took.

Kagome frowned and began to mimic Tiffany's voice with a squeaky, Smurf-ish sounding accent, "I know you're a man of principles and my actions took a spill for the worst, but I hope you had a great time after the show. Goodness only knows **I** sure did…" the she gave an irate sigh, "…ugh!"

She quieted down some, allowing the silence to overwhelm her, her eyes still glued to the floor. She couldn't stop thinking how nice it was, that floor. It was made entirely out of laminated, wooden plank-tiles that stuck to the ground with the help of a strong adhesive efficiently already anointed on their bottoms. The upside to having those kind of tiles was that when she spilled water, juice or even liquor on them, all she had to do was wipe it up with a mop or towel and everything would be just as it was before. No sticky or grimy spots left over from the incident, only the squeaky-clean shine of wood and the drifting, pungent smell of wood cleaner. If she'd used any at all, that is.

Kagome heaved a long, weary sigh and fidgeted around a little bit, switch-swapping hands to cradle her head and crossing and uncrossing her ankles as if it were too impossible to find any comfort in her current position. When she stopped, she began to mentally toy with the idea of having a laminated covering stretched over her heart, a type of Saran wrap that's completely impervious to…pain.

It would have worked out well enough. Each time somebody made the slightest attempt to hurt her, to impale her with their cruel, indefinable actions, she would just whip out her trusty roll of Saran wrap and create a barrier that was sure to keep her heart's fragile, fleshy hide from breaking.

Yes. It was the perfect plan. However—

Without warning, Kagome's expression shifted from dreary to thoughtful as the vibrancy in her eyes dulled to a cheerless, diluted glow. She felt something—a strange, emotional pull—tug lazily at her heart, trying to squeeze it through the bars of her ribcage. She sucked in a silent breath and bit her bottom lip, suddenly expelling strong, stalwart efforts in holding back the salt-water brimming in her lids and burning her eyes like alcohol on an unhealed wound.

_I won't cry, _Kagome willed herself as she sniffled and whimpered on and off like a time bomb ready to detonate, _I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't cry, I won't—_

"…cry…" she whispered slowly, quietly to the uncaring floor, to the blankly staring walls, and, of course, to her near fetal-positioned self huddled in mirror-land, "I won't…" Her voice cracked and faded into the intolerably cumbersome silence, which refused to break and crumble under the weight, the force, of the subdued pain stewing in her gut and chest.

At long last, a tear crawled down her cheek, glinting brightly in the corner of her left eye, dousing her long lashes and pallid cheek. And then another, which was soon followed by yet another. As seconds passed and merged into minutes, the same thing went on in a seemingly never-ending cycle, plaguing Kagome's heart and weighing down on her thoughts, slowly and severely tormenting her.

When the full effect of her sobbing binge caught up with her, her nose was red with stuffiness and running. Her eyes were also red, but from puffiness, lids quickly crusting over with dried up tears only to become wet again by newly shed ones. Lifting up a random, partially soggy hand, Kagome wiped away the salt-water flooding up in the rims of her eyes, smudging the briny brooks running down her cheeks in the process. She sniffled some and reflexively opened her mouth to breathe in the calming air, which cooled the surface of her tongue and the roof of her mouth, leaving her to close her eyes in order to savor the transitory moment of relief and wished-for tranquility.

Right then, she almost wished she hadn't closed her eyes at all.

Images of Inuyasha began to flee across her mind, images of him dancing, of him smiling, of him laughing, and of him caring…caring for her. She glimpsed images which beautifully captured that special, unforgettable moment of when they first met and that poignant sparkle in his eyes which still resided there to this very day, things of the past echoing through their depths.

"Inuyasha why?" Kagome mumbled and drew in another long breath and eased onto her backside to admire the ceiling again, "Just tell me why?"

_I wonder if he even has an answer, _she thought, eyes drooping dolefully, _A good one at that…_

With one more austere sniff, she felt something within her die like a flame caught in the line of a terrible wind. It burned with a seemingly unstoppable passion inside her, lapping at her insides and causing her mind to reel. And soon her eyes began to reflect its maudlin light, waltzing slowly to an age-old tune that always accompanied the sound of a breaking heart.

With a gentle intake of breath, Kagome curled upright, balancing herself stiffly on the heels of her sideward hands. Her heart was beating, beating fast, and something in her chest was clench-clenching painfully, twisting this sensitive nub inside her and causing her breaths to become labored and raspy. Without thinking, she feebly reached out for her crossword puzzle book and flipped to the very last page. Plucking her pencil up from beside her, she filled in the last line of blank squares at a leisurely pace without resorting back to the clue and leaned back some to observe her handiwork, her lips parting slightly as if she were ready to say something.

The letters occupying the cubical complexes formed a word that triggered a hurricane of emotions to wash over her—_Deceit_.

Kagome felt the beginning of a sad smile tug at her near-chapped lips. And then a whisper…so inaudible and solemn…fell from her lips like silk skimming freely along glass, "Is that what you did, Inuyasha? Did you actually deceive me?"

The air fell silent and still around her, and Kagome could've sworn that her entire world had just crumbled right before her tear-weathered eyes.

**7:30 PM  
**_Inuyasha's place…_

His suspicions were finally confirmed. Rick was actually full of it.

Inuyasha stood tall before the mirror mounted above his dresser, fingers scramble-tying his black bowtie with a practiced skill developed well over time by being raised under the roof of two other males who felt the need to coach him under their watchful, masculine wings.

When the tie was finally set in perfect bow formation and he wasn't wrought with unrelenting doubts that something might be wrong with it, Inuyasha let his arms fall down some to straighten the lapel of his dress coat and the silken collar of the white, crisp, button-up dress shirt that shone contrastingly beneath it. Subsequently, his fingers slid down the even edge of the triangular gap in his coat, moving lithely across its buttons to tug at the coat's lower split. He then tried to smooth out the tiny creases in the thighs of his jet-black, polyester pants only to let his hands dart back to the outstretched, heart-shaped limbs of his bowtie and lightly pull both to tighten the knot. Finally, with one, quick, make-sure look directed at his buff-luster shoes, he let his arms fall limply at his sides and looked at his reflection in the mirror and beamed.

Everything was just right, just as nature intended. Except for the anger steadily rising in the pit of his belly, bubbling.

Suddenly, his smile faded and he whirled to cross the short distance to his nightstand, sensing the faint tingle of glee crawling up his spine at the calming fact that he'd already taken his scheduled dose of Zoloft and was actually near-worry-free for the first time in his adult life. But the glee arrived too soon. It was eventually knocked over like a tower of blocks just as soon as he pilfered the chance to realize that not all was well. He was a jumble of emotions. His heart was hurting and slowly fraying, his thoughts felt heavy and stifling, and, most of all, images of Kagome kept ping-pogging from left to right inside his head, ancient images of the past.

He sighed as he picked up the pillcase from alongside the cordless and tucked it into the inner pocket of his jacket. _Why, of all nights, did Rick pick this one to make his little announcement? _He pondered, _Why not choose Saturday evening or, better yet, Monday evening? But why, **why** did he have to choose this one? What's so dog-on special about Friday evenings? _

He would've liked for everything to freeze around him. No, he would've liked for his own existence to freeze, to own a pause button that he was free to press any time he damn-well felt like it. Because, right now, he most certainly damn-well felt like it.

Face twisting as he stared down at the cordless, which was slightly crooked with part of its base protruding over the edge of the table, facing his bed, Inuyasha thought, _I wonder…what might've been the results if I'd only asked him for the bad news first instead?_

Habitually, he stooped over to reposition the phone. After he was finished, its side was perfectly aligned with the edge of the table, causing him to smile gently out of pride in his, albeit miniscule, accomplishment. Yet the pride that swept through and warmed him like an unseasonably cheery, hot summer day occurring during a cold, bitter, wintry season, lessened slowly, bit by tiny bit. He felt it being replaced by a feeling so strong that it hurt, a feeling so weird that it was unidentifiable.

Suddenly, the cordless held a beauty that was strangely eye-capturing. Easy-steady, it held his gaze and ignited an urge that refused to let up, an urge that refused to fade away into the background.

Inuyasha began to let his mind wander. He began to see images of Kagome waiting by the phone, face keen yet downtrodden, body language easygoing yet stressed. He could see her slender index finger entangling itself within her silky, ebony curls, twisting and turning, listless in its circular movement.

_I need to call her, _he thought, fingers curling into hard-as-steel, white-knuckled fists, _I need to tell her that I love her, that I'm here for her, that I would never do anything to hurt her._

Inuyasha unclenched one fist and allowed his fingers to inch slowly towards the phone. But, before he had a chance to reel it back in, the urge that once surged freely through his veins and actuated his plans of getting Kagome back with innumerous "I love you"s and "I would never"s, was ripped sharply out of him and caused him to snatch his hand back into a throbbing fist. His dull nails bit into the heel of his hand, almost prodding him with unspoken dares.

"I—I can't," he whispered, each word clawing at his throat, hurting it, hurting him, "I just can't."

There was a part of him, a more or less rational twin, that knew his plans would backfire. Kagome was nowhere near being a blah-de-dah type of woman. She knew how to skillfully psycho-analyze both the inside of people along with the outside. She made sure to walk circumspectly in the world with her many sizing questions ready in mouth and her eyes fixed solely on the prize, i.e. the truth. In a sense, she knew what could be deciphered as a lie and a legitimate fact. And once she saw that letter and spilled her tears, it was obvious that she had made up her mind about what was the lie and what was the legitimate fact in the situation.

Dark lashes fluttered discreetly across even darker, diamonique pools of lavender as Inuyasha smiled ruefully at the phone, at the table, at the nothingness beneath it before turning around to walk back towards the dresser. There, he picked up his ring of keys before making a half-turnabout straight for the door. On his way there, he stopped and peered expressionlessly over his shoulder, just barely catching a glimpse of the inert phone sitting on his nightstand.

_I can't. I just…can't. _

"After all, who would in their right mind listen to a lie?" he murmured, voice laden with fatigue and sinking with dejection. And with that, he walked out of the bedroom, switching the lights off and closing the door behind him.

_I sure wouldn't. _

**8:47 PM  
**_Chez Le Moines…_

Chez Le Moines.

It was a restaurant located just outside the perimeters of a high-ranked, gated, prestigious community, a curbside establishment caked in off-white stucco and four-paned windows flanked by red-painted shudders; a smallish balcony fenced in by iron hung over the main entrance to top off its cozy, yet elegant deportment.

Chez Le Moines was not a watering hole for the famous and the even more infamous, which pleased Inuyasha some because that meant he wouldn't have to confront the eager and desperate faces of fans as they lunged themselves at him. However, the restaurant did serve as a hotspot for the pretentious, which unnerved him just a bit. His relationship (if it could even be called that) with Tiffany should've been enough to be considered as an example of his low-tolerance skills with snobs, which practically bled like ink through his skin and clothes when he decided to share his company in the midst of her own.

Inuyasha double-parked his jeep in front of a tiny, clothes shop called Lucy's Boutique, which was supposedly closed for the night. Chez Le Moines stood right across the street from him, excreting blinding luminescence and just roiling with activity.

Twisting his key out of the ignition slot, Inuyasha slouched deeply against the driver's seat and let a sigh spill pass his lips. His tongue passed swiftly over his bottom lip as his eyes slowly drifted shut, exiling him to a world of infinite darkness dappled by hazy spots and streaks of light. Darkness swooped down upon him in unrelenting waves that tumbled, one over the other, merging into something endless, comforting, and virtually unbreakable. They swallowed him whole with flexible, deltoid arms that swept him to and fro as if he were a mere schooner made out of just one small ply of wood and a thin sail held up by a filthy, splintered popsicle stick.

Amazingly enough, however, he felt glad to be that schooner in the encompassing darkness. It felt…soothing in a way because it was just him. Just him facing the never-ending, frigid waves of darkness. Just him heavily submerged in silence. And just him on that tiny, ever-swaying schooner.

There was, as far as he could see, no one else.

Taking a shallow gulp of air, Inuyasha reluctantly parted away from his nonexistent world of solitude and darkness, and reacquainted himself with the luster of reality, though, not with the gentlemanly etiquette he was taught to implement in his behavior. He went about greeting reality with a slight crease between his brows and an irritable twitch in his shoulders. And, as a chucked-in bonus, "Damn it…I almost forgot about Rick."

Wriggling to bury his keys in the hidden pocket of his jacket and to unbuckle his seatbelt, Inuyasha opened the driver's door and stepped out into the muggy, nighttime air, which hung in front of his face like dragon's breath. And, incidentally, he realized that it needed to be satiated with a breath mint. Not one of those tiny, Tic-Tac size ones mind you, but a King-Kong, triple-decker combo-sized mint.

With a sigh and a quick inhalation of breath, Inuyasha trudged through the overbearing stink, the inside of his nose burning terribly as if some miniscule thing that could easily elude the regular eye, had decided to sneak in through one of his nostrils and throw a bonfire party without his consent.

Wordlessly, he passed the threshold of Chez Le Moines, stood still as the maitredee confirmed him as a customer on his reservation roster, and continued to venerate his secret vow of silence even as he followed the maitredee towards the far end of the restaurant, which was sparsely populated with people and seemed badly-lit when compared to the lighting towards the front.

It didn't take long for Inuyasha to find Rick. He was currently "busy" with the menu at a table located near a window that overlooked the valet parking lot for Chez Le Moines, which was inundated by darkness and dancing with blue, random sparks of light coming from streetlights.

"Here we are, sir," came the maitredee's suave voice, which was by a French accent. He handed him a menu, "Enjoy." And with that, he traipsed off in the direction from whence they came, not an unsteady beat in his step. If there could ever be one, that is.

Inuyasha took a seat across from Rick, who just then decided to put his menu away.

"The food here is to die for," he said suddenly to Inuyasha with a humongous grin.

Inuyasha looked down at his menu, which was still closed, and placed it on the table in front of him. He smiled nervously and said, "Well…I wouldn't know. French isn't really my cup-of-tea, so to speak; therefore, I avoid it as much as I can."

Rick cast a surprised look upon Inuyasha, who just let it reflect off of him like light on a mirror. "Ahhh…now why is that? Were you actually threatened by the difficulty of learning the language?" he inquired facetiously.

Inuyasha smirked slightly, "No, not at all. It just wasn't something I was keen in learning. Back when I attended school, I was more of a Spanish lover than a French one."

Rick chuckled briefly, "Well…to be honest…Spanish didn't exactly win a popularity contest in my eyes either. But French did, and that was the only language I ever stuck with during high school. But they're alike in a way. Both languages share something that fails at dodging the naked eye…"

"I know," interrupted Inuyasha rather abruptly, "They both stand as languages of…love." Then he looked up at Rick, a question bleeding through the uncanny hue of his eyes, "Am I right?"

Rick gave a gentle snort of laughter and took a light breath, "But enough of this. We have business to talk about."

Inuyasha just barely registered his words as he opened the gate that imprisoned his mind and allowed it to wander off into a foggy abyss that made it hard for him to look for it. But Rick's voice found it without a problem and tugged it back behind the gated perimeter with sheer ease.

"So…what'll you have?"

He peered down at his menu, suddenly feeling—what was the word? Ah…yes—stupid. He gulped and decided on an "Umm…I'll have whatever you're having," as his presumed "casual" reply.

Rick's face split with a broad grin of malicious intent, nearly causing an antsy gulp to ease its way down Inuyasha's throat.

For the rest of the night, his bright idea of staying home and enveloping himself in the familiar embrace of his bedding, wracked his mind like Swiss-Alp echoes. And they refused to stop their unrelenting rampage.

**10:05 PM  
**_Inuyasha's place…_

When had it started raining?

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…_

On and on…why wouldn't it stop?

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap…_

Kagome held her waterlogged jacket closer to her quivering body, lifting up a small, pallid hand to brush her wet bangs out of her face. The jacket weighed heavily on her shoulders like a dead and flaccid carcass, consistent in dripping dry the moisture that eventually accrued in its cottony material.

The wetness felt like endless, open-mouthed kisses upon her skin, sucking away what little warmth circulated beneath her skin. With each lick of a frostbitten tongue, her skin grew taut with goose bumps and multitudinous shivers staggered down the incline of her spine.

But there came a time when she didn't feel a thing, when she'd become so numb that she couldn't even feel her backed-up sinuses singe the canals of her nose. There came a time when she felt her legs begin to steer her into a warehouse sketched roughly against the backdrop of darkness and emanating something foreboding. There even came a time when she arrived at this place, voided of all life and the ruckus of the plummeting raindrops outside, though she caught one sound seeping through the cracks of silence. It was the unsteady, juicy plops of water trickling down the folds of her sleeve to the worn, concrete floor beneath her.

The sound resembled the quiet tapping of computer keys…

—_or the clicking of heels in the far-off distance…_

Kagome looked down at the sagging sleeve caressing her hand, thinking about something, about someone. Then her eyes veered upwards to land on a door, a blank slab of dark wood that, once upon a time ago, dangled from a solitary bronze hinge.

From far away, a person might've thought of it as an endless, abominable cavity burrowed amid a flawless plain of paint-chipped ivory. Or a yawning mouth that led to a complex system of roadways which acted as liaisons between several vast stomachs inside a vicious creature not indigenous to this world, or even this lifetime…

…whatever your imagination wanted you to believe…

—…_yeah…just whatever…_

Lifting her hand, recoiling slightly at the feel of wet ice stroking her flesh, Kagome walked up to the door and touched it. A link suddenly formed, and through it surged a short burst of memories that intertwined inside her mind and lingered there, refusing to leave.

Then a world of hurt crashed over her.

She closed her eyes to blot out the pain.

—Sadly, it was overwhelming—

—causing her to fall forward against the door, bracing herself on the palms of her hands.

Her forehead brushed against a tiny crack that webbed along the wood, merging with a network of other little cracks that branched out ubiquitously to touch every edge of the door. Unconsciously, she moved her head some to feel the shallow incision run along her flesh, taking in a languorous breath.

"Inuyasha," she whispered breathlessly, "I'm so sorry."

Her chest suddenly began to ache—

—her heart suddenly began to break—

—her eyes instantly grew wet with something other than rain, something much more scalding and intimate.

Who knew that a breaking heart could taste so salty? Who knew that its rivers appeared so pure and yet still tasted of impurity, of contamination?

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Kagome took in a staggering breath, listening as the rainwater, still trapped in the fabric of her jacket, plummeted to the ground at steady intervals.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Why…wouldn't it stop?

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

"Ka-Kagome?"

A quick rush of air filled Kagome's lungs, causing her heart to race. She let her body fall prey to the will of her anxiety, of her fear, doing nothing as it faded away into an unstable mass of shivers. Hesitantly, she pulled away from the door, turning around slowly. Her eyes plunged into molten, violet depths, victims to its alluring tint and tender radiance.

Quickly, she snatched her head to the side, shirking his gaze.

_Don't look, Kagome. Don't look. Just ignore him._

And so, she tried her best to ignore his gentle footfalls as he strode towards her.

She tried her best to ignore the long, dark, satiny strands pulled back into a neat ponytail, the very same strands which she loved to run her fingers through.

But, ignoring his beguiling eyes took more than just effort. It also required an art of concentrating on a single blot of discoloration on the concrete below, which she'd apparently practiced very well.

"Kagome," Inuyasha said, his voice short of breath and volume, "Look at me."

But Kagome refused to look up. She refused to bestow him with even a minor glance, choosing instead to teethe on her lower lip.

_I can't face him. I just can't do it._

"Kagome," he repeated, this time lifting a sodden hand to caress her cheek.

Quickly, almost instinctively, she dodged his impulsive action of genuine sentiment like a person diving out of the way of a dangerous swipe from a rattler. The action, sadly, maybe even fortunately under these circumstances, caused her to come face-to-face with Inuyasha, whose own was construed in an odd and confused way. And her eyes, fulfilling her darkest fears, couldn't tear themselves away from his eyes, portals to another world replete with pain and suffering, clearly reaching out to ask, "What? Don't you like me anymore?"

Like?

_What a juvenile word, _Kagome thought, _I'm surprised that I even associated that term with our relationship…but…in all honesty…_

Twisting her head to the side, Kagome felt her heart threaten to shatter. Slowly, she brought a fisted hand to her chest, and, all while cradling it loosely with her other hand, tried to stultify the threat's foreword of promised heartache. Without her knowing, her lips dropped open slightly, bringing notice to themselves as Inuyasha's eyes veered to land on them. Against her conscious mind and will, words soon fell from those very lips, chipped and faint, words she have never said or dared say before:

"I'll always like you, Inuyasha."

The sadness and the hurt that once swam through the pools of Inuyasha's eyes, vanished in one successful blink. His shocked expression melted away piecemeal, eventually replaced by the warmth of a beaming smile and unclouded eyes dancing lovingly beneath the diluted light fixtures. Without warning, he shot forward and grabbed Kagome's hand from her chest, pulling her close—nose-to-nose.

Kagome blushed, gulping hard. She felt her heart begin to flutter, overwhelmed with the occasional butterflies that consumes the stomach and chest of a woman when the love of her life embraces her, when they are just a solitary, unmovable inch apart, just standing on the edge of the entire world. Carefree, they stood, gazing into one another's eyes with formerly abandoned longing as if there would be no tomorrow, or a tomorrow after that, or even a tomorrow after that.

"And I'll always like you, too, Kagome," Inuyasha murmured, pulling her closer as his lips slipped on a wry though doting smile.

Folding her lips in among themselves only to unfold them with obvious reluctance, Kagome leaned forward on her tip-toes to bestow Inuyasha with a feathery kiss, a kiss that involved only a momentary, slick brush of lips. Pulling away, she took Inuyasha's hand in her free one, never once breaking eye contact, "I also want to say that I'm sorry. I didn't mean…to…"

Before she could finish, Kagome felt Inuyasha's index finger press itself firmly against her lips, a chilling caress that cut off her word-flow with commendable skill.

"Shhh. You've said enough," he said, his finger sliding away from her lips only to have its cool and lingering presence restored by something warmer and more pliant.

Closing her eyes, Kagome fell, fell for miles and miles on end, into the passionate kiss, her guilt and distress, as well as Inuyasha's, washed away by the soothing sound of rainfall.


End file.
